by Dunbar, Natalie; Glass, Seressia; Jeffries, J. M. ; Banks, L. A.
Inside Nana’s home, the lights were on. The power had been restored to the area. Kellie stepped into what remained of her battle with the werewolves. Broken candles and melted wax littered the floors. It was a wonder that the place hadn’t burned down. Shattered glass and splintered wood lay as it had fallen.
“You can hire someone to clean this place up,” Garen muttered as he surveyed the damage.
An odd sense of déjà vu gripped her as she stepped past the couch and the area where the werewolf had savaged her arm. She was a different person now, forever changed by her ordeal.
Sensing something, Garen came over and put an arm around her shoulders. His touch steadied her, enabling her to focus more on the job at hand. Their gazes locked. Her eyes narrowed. He’d known that his touch would have that effect.
“We’re connected,” he said, answering the question in her eyes. “There’s a bond growing between us.”
“How? Why?” she asked, sensing that she’d already missed the closing of a trap around her.
He shrugged. “You and I were meant to be. The growing mental, physical, and emotional bond is what happens when you meet your mate, the one who is meant for you. Wolves mate for life. Finding your mate is a blessing. It cannot be ignored.”
She huffed in disbelief.
Garen tailed hot fingers down her arm.
She cried out against the sudden wave of desire shooting through her veins.
“Stop pushing me, Kellie,” he ordered. “We cannot make love here. It’s not safe.”
Swallowing a biting reply, she said instead, “I feel… something, but the truth is that you just met me.”
“Does that make my feelings any less valid?” Garen turned away from her. “I’ll pack your things.”
She watched him walk back to the guest room she’d been using without another word. She guessed that he’d followed her scent.
With him out of the room, she hurried to the fireplace and removed the camouflage cover from a brick where the mortar had been chipped away. She saw that Nana had warded the area with magic against intruders. Thrusting her hand into the opening, she drew out the envelope. She didn’t dare check the contents with Garen so close. Kellie replaced the cover and turned around. She stifled a quick intake of breath.
Garen was standing behind her with her suitcase. She wondered how’d he manage to pack so fast. Then she wondered how long he’d been standing there.
“What’s that you’ve got in your hand?” he asked.
She swallowed and tried to get by with a limited version of the truth. “Nana’s papers, things she left me, and instructions for what to do after her death.”
“Did you check it? Make sure nothing is missing?”
Kellie shook her head. “It’s been well hidden. I found it a little while before the wolves attacked and put it back.” His gaze sharpened. “You don’t think the werewolves.…” “No.” She cut him off. “Let’s get out of here.” Glancing around, he said, “Make certain there’s nothing here
you want.” He scanned the floor of each room, hoping one of the wolves had dropped their medallions or a clue. He found nothing.
Taking Garen’s suggestion to heart, she looked around, finally pocketing a little ivory figurine that she’d loved as a child and the thick journal that had been on Nana’s nightstand. “Let’s get out of here.”
Garen drove them back to the Ocean Complex, certain that Kellie was keeping something from him. It had to do with the envelope she’d protectively clutched to her chest. He fought the urge to coax her into talking about it. They were still too new to each other.
At the hotel, she stifled a low moan when he took her hand to help her out of the car. His pants tightened at the sound.
The look she gave him was a carnal invitation of the utmost urgency.
The intoxicating scent of her sent blood pounding through his veins. He could only think of the softness of her skin, her pretty breasts and fine ass; and what it would feel like to explore her body and the welcoming warmth between her thighs.
Careful not to touch her, he strode to the room. She followed, almost running to keep up. Just inside the room he closed the door and drew her close. The entire length of them touched; soft feminine curves to his hard muscled body and thick, burgeoning sex. His pants tightened painfully.
Her hands smoothed up and down his arms and slid under his shirt. “Do it,” she whispered. “It’s all I can think about.” Her head tilted up, her mouth opening on a gasp as he gripped the soft globes of her ass and squeezed.
Garen drew in a harsh breath and covered her mouth, his tongue tangling and tasting the exotic sweetness within. She tasted like ripe mangoes. Licking her lips, sliding his tongue against hers, he feasted. He thrust an open palm between her legs and cupped the warmth of her sex beneath the jeans.
Panting and opening her legs, Kellie trembled as he rubbed his open palm along the center seam of her jeans. It was damp. Her knees buckled, and she fell against him, making soft sexy noises in the back of her throat.
With a low growl, Garen picked her up and took her to the bed. Ripping back the covers, he placed her on the sheets.
“Garen.” She reached for him, her body curling and undulating in erotic invitation.
He pulled her tank top up. She hadn’t bothered with the bra. His eyes took in the caramel-colored mounds of her cone-shaped breasts. The dark, hardened tips reminded him of raisins. His mouth watered. He laved the mounds as he would an ice cream cone, suckling the tips as his fingers worked the button and zipper on her jeans.
He felt her hands at his waist, pulling the zipper on his pants, releasing the tightness against his erection. She reached in to stroke him.
His sex was so hard it was painful. Garen inched backward. He was too close to the edge. Bending at the waist, he tugged off her sandals and drew the jeans down the length of her legs. Then he stepped out of his pants.
Kellie bent her legs at the knees. The peach lace thong was soaked with her essence. The sweet, musky scent made him crazy. Holding her soft thighs, he traced the edges of the garment with his tongue and sucked the essence from the center.
Kellie undulated against him, her fingers clutching his head and tangling in his hair.
In a swift movement, he ripped off the thong and covered her with his mouth. He dipped his tongue into her hot center, laving the delicious folds of her sex. His groans and her high-pitched cries echoed in the room. Like honey-spiced mango, her juices filled his mouth; sweet, musky, and exotic.
When she lay breathless, limp, and boneless on the bed, he lifted her legs onto his shoulder, pulled on a condom. Then he hesitated. The sum of him was more than man or wolf. “We should try something else. This has been building ever since we met, and I don’t trust myself to take the care you need.”
Kellie gripped him with her small hands. Her gaze locked with his, filled with a scorching demand. “You’ve been teasing me, and it’s gotten so that I can’t think of anything else. I want to experience everything in your nature or desire to give. I want you to be yourself. I don’t want you to be gentle.”
Still, he held himself on the edge. She was still fragile from her ordeal. He didn’t want to hurt her. His body shook with the effort of holding back. He’d never been this deep into having any woman.
Kellie drew his head down for a sensual kiss that made his head spin. He pushed into her slippery heat. Three hard, dizzying thrusts embedded him deep in her core. She gasped. He rocked fast, then slow, alternating between the two until a wild, rambunctious rhythm sent them on a journey as old as time. Thrusting, panting, pushing until their bodies clenched and spasmed in a wet, sweat covered tangle of flesh.
Kellie’s arms locked around him, holding tight with her legs and her sex.
Primal energy filled the room. Garen drew in a deep breath and drew the covers over them. That had been some bone deep, nut busting sex. A man could get addicted to something like that. A man could get addicted to Kellie.
> She slid under the covers, her hot, wet tongue licking the salt off his skin and sucking his nipples. Dipping low, she squeezed him and took him into her mouth. He tangled his fingers in her hair, the blood already pounding though his veins once more.
Garen slept hard. He’d awakened twice during the night to make love to Kellie. She lay pressed against him, her legs tangled with his.
In the hours before dawn, they lay together on the bed, holding one another in the dark. “What are you Kellie?” he whispered into the silence.
She snuggled against him and whispered. “Descendant of Arielle and one of the Frey, werewolf, maybe both.”
“And more? It is said that the Frey has magic. Do you have magic?”
“I never did before.” She turned to face him. “Nana had more magic than anyone I’d ever known, but she kept it secret. She wasn’t surprised or concerned that I didn’t have it because she was more than enough for both of us. She thought it would come with time. I’m changing Garen, but I don’t know what it means. The doctor said that the nonhuman elements in my blood were increasing.”
“That’s what happens when people become werewolves,” Garen assured her.
“But I’m not sure that’s what’s happening to me.”
He pulled her into his arms. “If I could take back what’s happened to you, I would, but things will work out, you’ll see. I‘ll do everything I can to make it right for you. I promise.”
“Even if I become something other than a werewolf?” she whispered, obviously seeking assurance.
“Even if you become something other than werewolf,” he answered, repeating her words and giving the assurance she needed.
Kellie was silent. Soon Garen heard her breathing softly in sleep.
Garen dozed only to awaken as the sun came up. He should be weak from exerting himself he thought as he sat up in bed, but he felt strong and energized.
He got up to run a bath for Kellie and order room service. She awakened as he lifted her from the bed, sighing as he placed her into the tub of fragrant, steaming water.
Chapter Six
Garen sat at the table with a silver covered tray. Kellie was coming out of the bath dressed in the one of the hotel’s cotton terry robes. He started having second thoughts about breakfast. His cell phone rang.
With a sigh of regret, he lifted the cover on the tray, pulled out Kellie’s chair, and answered the phone.
Bonner’s voice sounded in his ear. “Hey, Garen, I went through all the reports filed on Vegas casinos within the last year and there were only two filed on the French Quarter. I’ll give you the names and dates from both. Got a pen?”
“Yeah.” Garen drew a pen and the little notebook he kept from the pocket the suit jacket he’d thrown across a chair. With his ear glued to the phone, he wrote down the names Paul Bickford and LaToya Collins, May 2 of last year. Franco Tanetti and Sammy Pierson, August 19. “Have you got addresses for Tanetti and Pierson?”
Garen was excited as he wrote down the addresses. Other than Kellie, this was another big lead. He planned to visit Tanetti and Pierson as soon as he finished breakfast.
Settled in the chair beside him, Kellie was helping herself to bacon, eggs, and toast. Just looking at her filled Garen with a different kind of excitement.
Her gaze locked with his. She smiled, a fresh, intriguing window into her soul. When she spoke, the musical quality of her voice fascinated him. He could very well believe that his Kellie was one of the Frey and as magical as they come. He smiled back and forcibly broke the spell to eat the food on his plate. “I’ve got a lead to follow this morning,” he announced over coffee. “I’ve got to leave right after breakfast, but Paul will be here to protect you.”
“I need to go through Nana’s things and arrange a memorial service anyway,” she said. “I’ll probably stick around the hotel.”
Before he knew what he was doing, he’d pulled her from her chair and into his lap. His hands slipped beneath her robe to massage her legs.
Curling into him, she sighed with pleasure. “I’m game if you are, but I can’t believe you’re down for another round.”
“I’m not. I just can’t keep my hands off you.” He kissed her, his tongue going deep into the recess of her mouth. Garen undid the belt on the robe.
The robe fell open as she climbed off his lap to stand. She cupped his cheek. “I’ll be in the bathroom for a minute to brush my teeth. If you’re going to follow those leads, this is your chance to escape. If not, we can spend the morning in bed.”
Garen watched the sensuous sway of Kellie’s hips as she strolled to the bathroom. He honestly didn’t want to leave, and it wasn’t just about the promise of more sex.
Minutes later, Kellie left the bathroom minus the robe to face an empty room. Garen was gone. That bothered her. She needed time alone to explore the contents of the envelope, yet she felt abandoned, bereft, and slightly anxious. She blamed it on the growing bond between them. She missed him already. Going to the window to look out, she acknowledged that it wasn’t a matter of the ache between her legs. Garen’s presence had become very necessary.
She found her suitcase in the closet. Combing through it, she found a printed cotton tank top and a pair of slacks and put them on. Then she retrieved the brown envelope and poured the contents out on the bed.
Opening the white linen envelope first, she drew out Nana’s will and began to read. Nana’s number one request was that her body be buried in the earth near the little village where she’d been born. Guilt seized Kellie at the thought the she couldn’t locate the body. Nana had set great store in her body, turning to dust in the same place that she’d come from. At least Kellie could have the memorial service and invite all the people listed. According to the will, Nana had left the house and its contents to her. There was also enough money in a local bank account to make it unnecessary for Kellie to work for a long time.
Examining the rest of the items on the bed, she found a parchment with a hand written history of the warrior queen, Arielle. There was even a list of her female descendants. Kellie saw her name written neatly at the bottom, just below Nana’s name and a woman named Meloni. Carefully placing the parchment back in the envelope, she examined a beautiful gold ring with inset ruby flowers and emerald leaves.
Although Nana had had a lot of power in her compact form, she’d also been a very natural woman. It was unusual for her to wear a lot of jewelry. Kellie could only remember the twisted gold loops Nana wore in her ears all the time. There’d never been anything else.
Kellie put the ring back in the packet.
Nearly hidden by the rumpled sheets was a gold medallion that made Kellie catch her breath. It was too much like the one she’d seen on the werewolves. The moon and the wolf’s head were stamped on the front, but then there were several other animal heads too. She made out the head of a lion, a bear, a horse, a hawk, and a snake.
If werewolves wore the amulet with the moon and the wolf’s head, would this amulet’s wearer be able to change into the various animals pictured? Kellie pulled out the will and read one of the addendums. Nana referred to the medallion as the shapeshifter’s medallion. It would indeed enable its wearer to change into any of the forms displayed on its front. The medallion felt hot in her hands.
The phone on the nightstand rang. Startled, she nearly dropped the medallion. The phone kept ringing an angry, clamoring sound that grated her senses. Garen wasn’t calling, she reasoned. He’d just left. She had no known relatives or friends who knew she was here.
Lifting the receiver, she spoke into the phone.
A deep baritone raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “Good to see you’re still with us, Ms. Monroe and feeling better from all reports.”
She clamped down on her jaw. “Who is this?”
“Who do you think? It’s been at least a couple of weeks since we saw one another.” He erupted into a devilish fit of chuckling. Kellie shivered involuntarily. One hand balled into an angry fist.
“Understand,” the voice continued, “if we’d wanted you’d dead, we wouldn’t be talking to you now.” “So what do you want?” she asked, making her voice as hard as steel. “Oh I believe we have something you want. Your dear Nana has been our guest for a while now.” Kellie gasped. Hope filled her at the thought of the impossible. She’d never gotten the chance to say goodbye. “She’s alive?” “No.” He chuckled again. “But why should we let a little thing like death stops us from enjoying her company?” “You’re sick,” she declared, gathering the things on the bed and trying to stuff them back into the envelope. “If you want to insure her eternal rest by burying the body, you’ll meet me alone and you’ll bring the amulet.” “What amulet?” she asked innocently, wondering how someone else could know about something private that she’d just discovered. “Don’t play with me,” he snapped. “She would have left it for you since it is yours by birthright.”
Kellie gripped the phone trying to make sense of his statement. Nana had claimed to be very distantly related to Kellie. “What do you mean?”
The voice took on an edge. “Floyd Lamb State Park in an hour. It’s about ten miles outside of Las Vegas. Take US Hwy 95 to Durango to Tule Springs Road. Bring the amulet and come alone or we’ll ditch the body, and she’ll never rest in peace.”
“I don’t have a car,” she protested.
The dial tone buzzed her ear. He’d hung up.
Kellie stood and pulled on her sneakers. This was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. If things worked right, she could help Garen catch the werewolves, free herself from their threat, and get Nana’s body back. Her purse was on the floor in the bedroom. Checking for ID, charge cards, her guns, and extra ammo, she opened the door to the room. Paul was in the hallway, watching her curiously.
Briefly she thought of lying, anything to get rid of him so she could get to the meeting place. Common sense won out. Paul was good at watching and protecting from a distance without being seen. All she had to do was make him understand.
